


Here, Safe

by rangifertarandus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College Student Stiles, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Slow Build, Sort Of, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 09:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12627759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rangifertarandus/pseuds/rangifertarandus
Summary: He kind of knew beforehand what was going to appear, he wasn’t an idiot. It was either that or his father. But when an unnaturally pale Derek, with sunken eyes and dark veins pulsing under his skin, had appeared in front of him, he couldn’t help the sudden pain he felt in his heart and the tears falling from his eyes.Apparently the Djinn had thought it out really well and had created an ad-hoc reality just for him, in which Derek just kept on dying, no matter how Stiles tried to prevent it. How nice. He tried to tell himself it was just hallucinations, that it wasn't real. But every blow that hit Derek felt like a dagger in his heart, and by the time the real Derek turned up and killed the Djinn, Stiles was drained and his heart was so shattered that it hurt to breathe.





	Here, Safe

**Author's Note:**

> For [stilinski-sourwolf](http://stilinski-sourwolf.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I realise this is not _exactly_ what you asked for... but I really hope you like it!  
>  Also, this is my first Sterek fic, so I hope I did them justice!  
> Enjoy your present my dear, happy holidays and happy new year!
> 
> :)

Stiles sighs, plopping down on his bed. His hair is still wet from the shower as he runs a hand through it. He thinks back to the past few hours and he realises he’s simply exhausted.

The latest addition to the list of creatures they‘ve had to fight is a Djinn. A Djinn for God's sake. Weren’t they like, from the Middle East? It was just their luck that one of them had decided they wanted to see the world. Great. Just great.

And like, some Djinn’s weren’t even bad. Some were benevolent and helped humans and other supernatural beings. Of course, the Djinn they met just wanted to wreck havoc. And had chosen to do so showing everyone their worst fear to fight against and, well, that was simply shit.

It had attacked Derek in the woods a couple days before, leaving him terrified and breathless. Stiles was the one who had found him and the raw pain he had seen in the werewolf's eyes was enough to convince Stiles that whatever it was that had attacked Derek, it deserved to die the most painful death.

Stiles was the bait, Derek and Scott had fought for over an hour on who it was going to be. Stiles had just decided on their behalf. Neither Derek or Scott were happy about it, but Stiles's reasoning was flawless and they couldn't really argue. So while he was battling his worst fears the others were going to attack the Djinn, hopefully catching it by surprise.

It should have been quick and not even that painful but, obviously, a small group of hunters had decided it was a good moment to attack the pack. Really, Stiles sometimes thought hunters were just the worst kind of enemy they've ever had to fight, those dumb assholes. That had resulted in Derek taking a while to get there and Stiles was starting to think he was going to go mad.

He kind of knew beforehand what was going to appear, he wasn’t an idiot. It was either that or his father. But when an unnaturally pale Derek, with sunken eyes and dark veins pulsing under his skin, had appeared in front of him, he couldn’t help the sudden pain he felt in his heart and the tears falling from his eyes.

Apparently the Djinn had thought it out really well and had created an ad-hoc reality just for him, in which Derek just kept on dying, no matter how Stiles tried to prevent it. How nice. He tried to tell himself it was just hallucinations, that it wasn't real. But every blow that hit Derek felt like a dagger in his heart, and by the time the real Derek turned up and killed the Djinn, Stiles was drained and his heart was so shattered that it hurt to breathe.

He still doesn't know how he managed not to have a full blown panic attack, the fact that the real Derek was there holding him close and carding his fingers through his hair had probably helped.

It wasn't new, the holding. They had grown pretty close in the past few years. After the Nogitsune's possession, Stiles had become somewhat more tactile and had started to seek touch from everyone, to keep himself grounded. To tell himself that he was there, that he was safe. Derek wasn't around much at the time, but Stiles had a whole support group which he was grateful for. After the whole FBI fiasco he had somehow managed to score a scholarship to attend Stanford (no one was sure how he had pulled that trick. Actually, he wasn't sure himself, either) and, there, it was both easier and harder at the same time. Stiles felt somewhat safe far from Beacon Hills, no supernatural beings wanting to kill him or, worse, to use him to cause pain to his loved ones. But those nights, when nightmares would wake him up, it was hard to explain to his flatmates why he needed to wake them up, to talk to them, to touch their hand. There wasn't really an easy way to go about that and he didn't want to tell them too much, in fear of disrupting that fragile figment of normality in his life.

So he had started to call his pack, his family. He used to call Scott at first, then the mumbled sleepy questions coming from Kira on the other side of Scott's bed started to make him feel guilty. Calling his dad was out of the question and his relationship with Lydia was something different, she was on the other side of the States anyway and Stiles didn't want to stir bad memories. So one night, after he had woken up to images of the Nogitsune making him kill Derek with his own bare hands, he tried calling him. And Derek picked up straightaway, as if he had been waiting for his call.

"We're safe, everything's okay" He had said, not even waiting for Stiles to speak. Reassuring, comforting, as usual. And that was it.

From then on Derek was always there, always ready to stay up with him, to chat about nothing, about home, about the time they spent apart, about anything, and Stiles would talk, the nightmares slowly being forgotten, until his breath would go back to normal. Derek paid attention to his tone, to whatever hint of discomfort or pain or fear, he wouldn't hang up until Stiles was good, until he was feeling safe. Protective of his pack, even from afar.

That wouldn't stop during the summer and the holidays, when Stiles was back home, only a couple miles from Derek's loft. Sometimes they would stay up talking on the phone, other times Stiles could hear rustling and engine roaring in the background of his words and Derek would appear at his window, the phone still at his ear, ready to hold Stiles and make him feel safe. Sometimes Stiles didn't need to call at all, Derek was just there with him, safe.

And Stiles was grateful, but couldn't really fool himself anymore, there was a reason why Derek was the person he saw in those visions. The problem was that, although Derek was amazing, and clearly considered Stiles pack, family even, and was cuddly and just _there_ whenever Stiles needed it, there was no sign that he felt the same way about him. So, really, there was no point in dwelling too much into it. Stiles just hoped that Derek was too busy fighting to notice what was happening in the Djinn's altered reality.

A sound outside catches Stiles's attention. He turns around just in time to see Derek close the window behind himself. Speak of the devil...

"Hey." Derek says, crossing the room and walking up to him.

"One day you'll see the benefit of walking through doors." Stiles jokes, standing up.

A faint smile appears on Derek's lips, while his arms wrap around Stiles's waist. It's almost shocking how natural Stiles's reaction comes. He doesn't even have to think before slotting his body against Derek's, snaking his arms around him, and burying his face in the werewolf's shoulder.

"Nah, it's much more fun catching you by surprise." Derek says, huffing out a small laugh and mirroring the younger boy's action.

Derek runs his nose along Stiles's neck, inhaling deeply as Stiles does the same. Derek smells like the forest and burnt wood, Stiles inhales and exhales and it calms him down. He's not even sure when Derek's smell started becoming calming. Stiles is so fucked.

They stay wrapped into each other for a couple minutes, until Derek starts pulling away to look at Stiles's face.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get there." He says. Stiles shakes his head.

"Not your fault, dude. Fucking hunters." Derek closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asks after a moment, and– What? Stiles's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"I saw myself in front of you," Derek explains, concern clear in his eyes, he looks worried and almost fearful of hurting the human in front of him. And Stiles's heart breaks a little.

He pulls Derek closer and wraps his arms around his neck, fingers trailing up and down his upper back, in a desperate attempt at conveying with his body language what he can't yet bring himself to say. Derek's hold tightens around him automatically and Stiles feels tears welling up in his eyes at the memory of the fake-Derek dying times and times again in front of him.

"No, I don't– you don't understand– you–" Stiles is stammering, breathing heavily through the tears. He's probably soaking Derek's shirt, but the werewolf doesn't seem to care, he doesn't let go, he tightens his grip even more instead, rubbing his hands up and down Stiles's back in a soothing motion. They're impossibly close, every single fibre of their body touching and Stiles can't keep it in anymore.

"You died, you died 34 times– I was– my heart, Derek– it hurt, I– I wanted to be dead, too. You died, Derek, you died and it was shit." Stiles finally says, voice broken by tears. He regrets it straightaway when Derek stops touching his back, grabs Stiles's shoulders and pushes him away a little, enough to look him in the eyes.

"You saw me dying?" Derek asks, incredulous, looking unsure of the implications of that confession. And Stiles is shattered, fresh tears falling from his eyes and heavy breaths past his lips.

He looks in Derek's eyes once, before nodding weakly and casting his gaze down.

Derek’s hand on his cheek makes him look up and for a moment he gets lost in the light green of the werewolf’s eyes. They look so much like the eyes that were staring back at him while Derek was killed multiple times. And Stiles knows they aren't the same. He can see now how different they look. But it had felt so real. So damn real, and Stiles can’t help the shudder that runs through his body at the memory.

Derek squeezes his shoulder lightly, soothing, reassuring, although Stiles can still see a trace of anxiety in his eyes.

“I saw you,” Derek says. "I saw you die, too. You were in here, in your house, and you wouldn't come out and it was burning down and I couldn't do anything to save you. I thought it was real, I thought I'd lost you, too" Derek's words are rushed, like he needs to get them out before it's too late, like he needs Stiles to know. He casts his eyes down once he's done speaking, Stiles thinks he can see a flash of fear in them.

He takes a deep breath, bringing his hands up to cup Derek's face. He hesitates briefly before placing a small kiss on the werewolf's temple, slowly trailing his way down his cheekbone with light kisses.

"I'm safe, I'm here, I'm safe, we're safe" he repeats it like a mantra through each kiss, feeling Derek relax a little with every inch of skin he touches.

Stiles goes on meticulously, tracing every inch of Derek's face, while the werewolf runs his hands all over his back and shoulders, until their breaths go back to normal and they know that they're both there, they're both safe.

And suddenly there's Derek's mouth at level with his and for a moment everything stops. They look into each other's eyes. Derek's hands still, one on Stiles's waist and the other on the back of his neck. Stiles has moved one hand down Derek's neck and he's rubbing his fingers gently on the sharp angle of the werewolf's jaw, nails scratching at the scruff there.

"You're so important to me." Derek whispers softly, lips barely touching Stiles's. It almost looks like he's waiting for permission, waiting for Stiles to make a move.

Stiles's heart is pounding in his ears and he wonders if Derek can hear it or if maybe his own heart is doing the same. Judging from the hazy look in the werewolf's eyes, he could probably wage on the second option

"I'm gonna kiss you." Stiles finally says after what seems like ages.

And he has every intention to do so, but Derek hums and, before Stiles can even move, he's captured his lips with his own.

It's gentle at first, mouths moving almost chastely against each other. Suddenly though, Derek's mouth, coupled with his hand rubbing circles on Stiles's waist, is just _too much_ and Stiles can't help the groan that escapes his lips.

That seems to give Derek life, he deepens the kiss, their tongues touching and almost battling together in a mad tug of war. It's amazing, it's everything Stiles's dreamt about and more.

Derek walks them backwards to the bed, gently laying Stiles down and lying on top of him, his elbows keeping him up, without even stopping kissing him for a second. Stiles is still wondering how he managed that, when Derek's hips come crashing down on his and make his heart stop for a full second. This is the hottest thing that's ever happened to him.

"Derek." Stiles moans through the kisses and Derek's still hazy eyes seem to clear for a moment, before Stiles pushes his hips upwards and a groan escapes the werewolf's mouth.

Derek buries his face in Stiles's neck and stays there, nipping and kissing the tender skin, and Stiles can't do nothing but mouth at Derek's neck, too. They move their hips against each other's, pleasure burning through their bones and making them both moan incoherently. It seems practiced, like they've been doing it forever. Their bodies so attuned to each other's that there's no need to think, no need to be careful. They just move together, until the pleasure is too much and Stiles seeks out Derek's mouth to kiss him deeply, not to shout, when he comes. He soaks his underwear and pyjamas and it should be embarrassing as hell, but Derek follows soon after, coming with a grunt that sounds more wolf than human, and he's still kissing Stiles's mouth like he'd die if he stopped.

Once they part to breathe, Stiles looks at Derek’s face and a gasp escapes his lips. He can't believe that _he_ did that. That he's the reason why Derek looks so wrecked, so dazed.

They're still looking in each other's eyes when their breaths finally come back to normal. Derek's hands caressing Stiles's face, tracing each mole with his fingers, while Stiles is roaming his back, up and down the werewolf's spine.

"We're disgusting," finally Stiles says.

Derek huffs out a small laugh, lifting his hips and looking between their bodies to asses the damage. There's a damp patch on both their pants and he can't help but blush a little. Stiles's chuckle catches his attention and he looks back up.

"We're worse than horny teenagers," he says, bringing up a hand to caress Derek's face, mirth clear in his eyes.

"It's your fault," Derek says, his tone is serious but the smile on his lips gives him away, he briefly pecks Stiles's lips before continuing. "You have no idea the things your body does to me"

And well, Stiles can't really be sure, but if it's even remotely close to what Derek's body does to him, he _might_ have an idea.

He says as much, eliciting a growl from Derek.

"I want you all the time, I think about you all the time." Derek says, he looks bashful and Stiles's pretty sure his heart skipped a couple beats. He closes his eyes, running a hand through Derek's hair and willing his heartbeat to go back to normal.

"It's not just that though." Stiles is surprised when Derek continues speaking, he opens his eyes. He's not sure he even _deserves_ more than this.

"What do you mean?" Stiles asks, Derek shakes his head with a small smile on his lips. He kisses Stiles then, just as intense as before, tongue licking at the seam of Stiles's mouth until he gives in and lets him in. They seem hungry for each other's taste, starving almost. They're breathless again when they part, Derek burying his face in Stiles's shoulder while they catch their breaths.

"I'm in love with you," Derek says, and it's almost a whisper, huffed out against Stiles's cheek. And Stiles's heartbeat picks up but he can't see Derek's eyes and he needs to, needs to know this is real, that he hasn't just imagined it. He shifts, so that he's looking in the werewolf's eyes, a mix of emotions is going through them. And among all of them, the fear, the relief, the sensation of home and pack and family, he can see it. Love.

"Are you for real?" Stiles can't help but ask, still unsure whether he can trust his eyes, his instincts. The smile that appears on Derek's face is beautiful and he feels the sudden need to kiss it before Derek can speak, so he does.

"Yeah, I've been for a while now" Derek finally says. And Stiles can see it, it's there for him, in the werewolf's eyes, in his open expression and his reassuring smile.

"I have loved you since that first time you came to my house while we were on the phone." Stiles says, he didn't mean to be precise, specific, but it escapes his lips and it's worth the look of relief and happiness on Derek's face.

They kiss again, this newfound knowledge spurring them on. They kiss until their lips are numb, until their clothes are too hot, too sticky, and they need to get out of them. They kiss under the covers, mouths roaming each other's bodies, moving slowly, hands touching everywhere, exploring, pleasure building up until they're hard again and Derek is bringing them both to the edge with one hand wrapped around both their cocks. They kiss while Stiles comes and Derek does too, just mere seconds after him. They kiss until they fall asleep in each others arms and they kiss again in the morning, when they finally decide they're too disgustingly dirty and head in the shower, together. Both staring at each other’s bodies, touching, kissing, in awe of each other.

The Sheriff finds them at the kitchen table, hands holding while they're having breakfast. He's not surprised at all, he doesn't ask questions, doesn't need to. He pours himself a cup of coffee and offers them a smile. Stiles grins at him while Derek tries to hide his own bright smile in the boy's shoulder. But it's there and the Sheriff tips his cup at him, like he's cheering them on, like a blessing. They seem to go back in their little bubble then, they're looking at each other and he thinks he can hear a muffled "told you so" coming from Stiles, before they share a quick peck on the lips and go back to eating their breakfast. And the Sheriff just watches them whispering about their love and their future and the day ahead and he’s just so grateful that his boys are there, together, and they’re happy and, most importantly, they’re safe.

**Author's Note:**

> So that's it...   
> Hope no one was too terribly ooc!
> 
> Comments are much appreciated!
> 
> Also come find me on tumblr (<\-- I'll make this a working link as soon as the Secret Santas are revealed) and let's talk sterek and hobrien together!


End file.
